


I have loved the stars too fondly

by eliotssinbin



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Because I think it's adorable, Dwarf Courting, Dwarf/Human Relationship(s), Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, Erebor, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hair Braiding, Kinda, Memory Loss, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Original Female Character - Freeform, Slow Burn, Some Cursing, Some angst, Thorin gets a happy ending dammit, but like realistic slow, maybe a tiny bit mary sue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26060281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliotssinbin/pseuds/eliotssinbin
Summary: She has fallen into the world of the Hobbit, with the chance to fix the ending she always found so cruel. But the knowledge does not come easily, nor always at the most convenient moments. Has her presence already changed the course of events?She didn't mean to fall in love with the King, but now she has no choice but to save his life. No matter how stubborn he is.Title from the poem Twilight Hours by Sarah WilliamsThough my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;I have loved the stars too truly to be fearful of the night.
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	1. What a welcome

**Author's Note:**

> And so begins another Modern Girl in Middle Earth story. This is my first long form addition to this wonderful fandom. This story will be somewhat slow burn, because love at first sight is nice but I like to make you work for it a little bit. 
> 
> I'm writing this mainly to be the sort of piece I would like to read so it likely won't be perfect, but I've been writing for a few years so I will of course be heavily invested in this making sense and also enjoyable to others. I hope that you enjoy the fruits of my escapist fantasies! 
> 
> \---------------
> 
> 1st Chapter WARNINGS:  
> -Graphic description of falling  
> -Lots of pain  
> -No actual gore though

It certainly hadn’t been my idea to fall from the sky. There was blackness, and then I felt harsh wind surrounding my body, but when I managed to peel my eyes open I was greeted by an empty abyss. 

The air ripped away the scream that tumbled from my lips, the pressure snapping my mouth closed and I was left with the howling of wind as I dropped. Tears streamed down my cheeks from the sting from the force of keeping them open. 

I’ve gone zip lining a few times in my life. There’s a moment, right when you jump from the platform before the line catches your harness where you’re just falling. You listened diligently to the instructor to explain the safety mechanisms that kept you tied down and safe in the steel line that would guide you towards the next post, but as you fall there is a striking thought. What if it doesn’t catch? What if it catches and snaps? How high up am I again? The image of your body splattering against the forest floor invades your head but before you can begin to feel the terror of knowing you’re going to die or wondering if it’ll hurt when you hit the ground, the line catches. Not violently, but suddenly your free fall is tempered by the feeling of your harness tight against your thighs and the gentle guide of the steel line as you soar down the track. 

You might wonder why the hell anyone would want to do that. I don’t really have an answer. Sometimes the feeling of fear is like a drug, but only if you know realistically that you are safe. That you will not die. 

This was not that feeling. The only weight present was the drop of my stomach as I continued to plummet through empty space, nothing above, nothing below. Just, falling into the gaping maw of down down down until a flash of something solid appeared. Far, far away. 

Green. Like a field. 

A few more seconds and texture began to appear, a gentle variation of shade that deepened with each heartbeat. Trees. Dirt. A mountain on the horizon to the right. 

Closer, closer, closer. 

Why was this happening? It didn't matter how I got here, or even why. The ground was approaching rapidly. I hoped I would die before I felt any of the pain I knew was coming. 

No point. I screwed my weeping eyes closed and waited. 

And then I hit the ground. 

For a moment, my world remained black accentuated by a sharp, searing pain throughout my body. But not the type of pain I would have expected. It came in waves, blood roaring in my ears and every atom of my body felt as if it were trying to tear itself apart. There was nothing other than me when I should be nothing more than a grease stain upon the ground. Viscera. 

The waves still crashed, but there was room in them. Room to register the burning centered where my lungs should be. The sudden thought. 

Breathe.

I gasped in, feeling the air flow back into me. I hadn’t realized before that I hadn’t breathed since I hit the floor. How long had it been? Hours maybe. Impossible to tell. 

Hell. This had to be hell. 

“...i.gn...h.l..o…”

The waves receded again. I hadn’t felt any bones snap. I had to have died, this was punishment. What had I done to deserve this? 

“...in!...lp…..do som….”

The roar against my ears quieted to a thrum.

“Breat… that’s a ….ood lass.” A voice. Satan? Had to be Satan. Anger reared up within me, pushing against the agony. I was in hell, for sure. I reached out and grasped it, holding on to it. .

“..... waking up! Can you… ar me?”

“G.- ! Can’t you do something?” A different voice. Who the fuck? Some demon. Beelzebub? I never paid much attention in Sunday school.

The pain finally dulled down enough to the point where I could feel the outline of my body once again. I still had a body. My fist clenched. Did I do that? Unclenched. Yes, okay good. 

“There you are lass. Can you open your eyes?” 

No. I couldn’t. It was like they had been sewed shut. My breaths were heavy, ragged and catching against my chest. But at least I was in control.

The voice was old. Had a kind tinge to it. It occurred to me then that perhaps, this was not Satan, but I didn’t really give the thought much energy. 

I focused all of the strength into my eyes. And millimeter by millimeter I pushed them open. 

Light. Somewhere. Left? They screwed shut again. 

“What manner of witchcraft is this?” A different voice. Gruff. Deep. Younger than Satan here. Not Satan. Who the fuck cares.

“She’s certainly alive!”

“Her eyes opened!” Another? 

“What, no they didn’t.” How many people were here? 

“Yes, just for a moment! I saw them!”

A groan bubbled over, tearing at my throat as it forced its way forward. Too many people, too loud. Why couldn’t they shut up! 

One more time, I forced my eyes to open. 

“That’s it lass.” Old guy prompted gently. Shapes swam in my vision, but slowly they coalesced into one single image. Old guy was old indeed, a long white beard greeting me when I could finally focus. There was a second old guy hovering over my other side, holding my arm with one hand and pressing his fingers into my wrist with the other. He was slightly less old, but his hair was definitely crazier than the first old guy. Huh. I couldn’t really feel the point of contact. My limbs felt like lead. Heavier. Like a million pins and needles, complete static. Better than pain, I decided quickly. 

“You fell quite a ways there Miss. Do you know where you are?” First old guy caught my attention again. He looked- no. I was struck with the distinct feeling like I knew who he was, but as I studied his admittedly bizarre facial hair and clothes, no name came to mind. I lazily scanned around. A full moon hung overhead, casting a fair amount of light through the forest surrounding me. A small ways off, two men stood staring at where I lay. They were... something. Dressed in actual furs and robes, they looked like something directly out of a renaissance faire. One of them even had axes strapped to his back, glinting in the orange glow of the campfire. 

I managed to slowly shake my head, wincing as my muscles pulled. 

“That’s alright, miss. Best you don’t move until we can tell how many bones you've broken.” 

They weren’t broken. I could feel that now. The pain was pulling away, leeching itself from my body. I ignored his words and subsequent protests as I pulled my hands away and pushed myself to a seating position. If my limbs trembled violently as I did it, well that was my business. 

A hush fell over the group. 

“What-” the word was followed immediately by a coughing fit. My throat felt utterly shredded. A small container was coaxed into my hands and somehow I managed to drink down a gulp of water. 

“What happened?” 

The two old guys exchanged a glance. Someone else stepped over into my vision, someone tall and draped in a grey robe, He leaned against a walking stick- no more like a staff. I looked up, and then up again. He was definitely at least a foot taller than the others standing nearby. 

Suddenly, it hit me like a truck. Old guy was familiar. Not quite as familiar as the grey man though. Because standing before me, was Gandalf the fucking Grey. 

My mouth must've dropped open, because Gandalf stopped in his tracks. 

I definitely died. Gandalf? In the flesh? Unless this was some sort of elaborate prank. Danny definitely would-

Danny. The thought had appeared without warning, but just as quickly as it had arrived it disappeared. Danny… 

I looked back to Gandalf, in all of his wizardly glory. Gandalf. The name had seemed so right. Like looking at him was looking at someone I knew. But now seeing him, I couldn’t seem to grasp the connection. 

Why had I known his name? 

He cleared his throat, breaking my momentary spiral. 

“You appeared in the sky, my dear, and found your way down here.” 

I barely held back a snort. Found my way indeed. 

“Do you have any memory of the fall?” His brow quirked, cold blue eyes staring deep into my own. There was something hypnotic about his gaze, like staring into a spiral. Cautiously, I nodded my head. 

“And what of before?” 

“I-” My head swam “I don’t know. I-” Any concrete thought slid away from my attention the moment I tried to pull it to the front. I could’t remember. I couldn’t-

“I don’t know.” 


	2. new day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The company learns a bit more about our fallen girl, and she learns a bit more about them. Featuring Kili and Fili being sweet and the very first hints of a special connection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter no lie 3 times. It's been a while since I've written anything long form and I'm still getting into the groove of it, so please feel free to leave any constructive criticism if you would like to! I find character introductions super hard so hopefully now that I've got some of the big ones out of the way I will be bale to continue in a timely manner. Thanks so much for reading! It means the world <3

The night moved forward in a whirlwind of moving bodies and orders barked over the soft crackle of the fire. At some point someone had helped me stumble over to the edge, settling me with a gentleness that I barely registered. They were going to want answers. Hell, I wanted answers too. The pain of the fall had melted into mere memory, replaced by a fatigue that made my limbs feel like lead. 

Before I could manage to slip off into sleep, someone shoved a cup into my face. One of the older men, dwarves as I'd been told, watched with an unspoken sternness that told me he would not leave me alone until I had drained the beverage completely. It tasted almost exactly like mud, but the initial choke that the liquid drew from me at the first sip did not dissuade his furrowed brow so I plugged my nose and took it like a shot. 

It was then that introductions were made. Only five of the overall crew had stayed- or been allowed to stay going by the shouts that had sent everyone scrambling away. I came to learn that 'Satan' was actually called Balin who gave off “favorite grandpa” vibes in a major way. He carried a mischievous glint in his eyes when he spoke, but he was kind with his words and careful attention when he had led me over. He had been the one to initiate introductions. Oin was a healer, which made the tea make a lot more sense. Then Dwalin, Balin's brother and the tallest of the group other than Gandalf. The balding dwarf kept me fixed in an intense scowl made none the less terrifying by the battle axes that were strapped along his back. 

Lastly, there was the leader. Thorin Oakenshield. No one had said it precisely, but there was no mistaking the sheer aura of power radiating from his direction. The others sent small glances in his direction as Balin filled me in about the purpose of this merry band of travelers and I couldn't help but find my own gaze flitting over to him. I mean, who could. It hit me as soon as I saw him. His black hair, long and peppered with grey streaks, was kept loose, flowing over his shoulders save for two braids that started at his temples into silver clasps at the end. Icy blue eyes peered out through the dim light cast by the flames.   
He was gorgeous. 

"So you've no memory of the fall?" Balin asked, his weathered hands stroking at his beard. 

"Oh I remember the fall," I twiddled my fingers along the edge of the rather magnificent cloak someone had draped over my shoulders, trying to avoid looking at Thorin. "I just don't know how it happened." 

"So you were awake." 

Gandalf had lit up a pipe as soon as everything had settled down and he chewed on the end thoughtfully as he listened. Nothing more had popped up about him, or how exactly I knew his name. The glint in his eye when he'd been formally introduced told me that he was at least partially aware that I wasn't saying everything I knew but he'd merely offered a smile and a nod. 

"Yes," the reply came out softer than it sounded in my head. Another glance from Balin to Thorin. 

"Do you remember anything at all prior? Where are you from? Your name even?" The wizard spoke up. 

"Uh." Good question. Did I? My name should be easy, but when I thought about it, nothing jumped out immediately. Other things did, however. A house, old but sturdy. A forest just past the back porch full of woodland creatures. I'd grown up there. Few other puzzle pieces had slipped into place. 

"I think so. It's-" the fatigue pulled once again, this time resting in my head. "Everything feels a bit... far away right now." 

Gandalf seemed to be the only one who didn't seem too concerned by that response, shaking his head slowly. 

"In the meantime, what might we call you?" 

I swallowed. "Uh, Fen." It was a nickname, but something that I remember distinctly answering to when I was young. 

"Well then, Miss Fen. Perhaps we should reconvene in the morning." 

Dwalin sputtered a complaint loudly in what had to be the thickest Scottish accent I had ever heard. 

"I suppose we're just going to trust the lady who fell from the sky, are we?" His arms slipped from where they had been crossed over his chest and he gestured wildly.

"Come now brother, she hardly looks a threat, does she!" Balin slipped an almost apologetic look my way. Some part of me opened my mouth to protest. I could rain some hell if I really wanted to. Maybe not physically. I may be short, but all 5'4" of me could be filled with rage at a moment's notice. I did remember, however, that the pastel pink color that had occupied my hair for the past few years did not exactly give off a menacing vibe. 

They argued back and forth for a few more moments before Thorin finally stepped in, barking out a harsh, guttural word that was nothing like any language I'd heard before. 

"You cannot possibly think to send her out into the night by herself, Thorin." Gandalf stepped forward, voice gravely low. The dwarf fixed me with a stare and for a moment it felt like he was trying to read my soul. 

"She will stay with the company tonight. The rest we will decide tomorrow. The woods are no place for a lone woman." Thorin's voice was deep, grumbling up from deep within his chest. Maybe if I had been more awake I would have swooned at the sound. 

Instead I gave what I hoped to be my most grateful looking nod and slumped into the cloak again. Oin and Balin didn't have to practically drag me to walk this time, though they did stand fairly close in case my legs happened to give out on me on the way over.

The rest of the crew, company Balin had called them, had set up an entirely different campsite just through the trees. They sat in small clusters scattered around their own fire, small rolls sort of like sleeping bags spread out underneath them. It was a bit unfortunate that I found none of them had gone to sleep as every pair of eyes was instantly glued to me. My skin crawled a bit at the attention. I mean who could really blame them. I might as well be an alien as far as they knew. It didn't really stop the unease though. 

"We'll make proper introductions in the morning." Balin pat my hand lightly and herded me towards an empty bit of ground away from most of the others. I could hear Thorin explaining the situation about as briefly as humanly possible before telling everyone to just leave it until tomorrow. It almost didn't occur to me to care as I all but collapsed onto the forest floor, drawing the cloak over me as a blanket. The fatigue finally washed over me and I was dragged down into a deep sleep. 

\----------

I nearly balked at the ponies. 

Meeting a grand total of fifteen random guys in the woods after falling from the sky? Easy. Riding a horse? Less easy. Not making a fool out of myself whilst riding said horse? Impossible. 

I hadn't missed the hushed snickers that were exchanged behind my back when I had to be helped up into the saddle, but a well placed and only sort of half-hearted glare had sent them off. The little beast seemed to be content to follow the rest of the herd without much direction from me, to my relief.

It had taken a good two days for the mystique around my arrival to settle down even slightly. I still occasionally caught one of the dwarves staring but I tried to put it out of mind. My appearance was, at the very least, a bit foreign to them. I thanked whatever god ruled over this place that I had been wearing simple clothing. I wasn't totally sure that a graphic t-shirt would have made it easier to talk to me. As it was, the black jeans and soft grey hoodie were subject to scrutiny. The timberland boots went over slightly better considering they were at least boots. Perhaps not as good as the blocky, steel toed shoes that the dwarves wore but I had a feeling these would serve me better than running sneakers. 

While the clothes were odd, my actual body was a marvel to them. 

"Does your hair grow that color?" 

I startled out of my thoughts to find one of the dwarves had sidled up next to me, his pony matching the pace of my own. He was young, at least younger than the rest of the crew. His brown hair waved just shy of his shoulders and his face was lacking any facial hair beyond a scruff that made him look almost adorably disheveled. He was the first of the company to attempt to speak to me beyond the first night's group. Considering there were fourteen names shoved in my brain, I wasn't entirely sure which one was addressing me. 

"What?" I managed to stutter out. 

"Your hair. Is it like that naturally? I've never seen anyone with pink before." He gestured towards my head. 

"Oh, no. I've only had it this way for a few years." The tips of the hair in question brushed halfway down my shoulder blades, though I'd managed to figure out how to tie the top half back and out of my face. 

A triumphant laugh sounded from the left. A second pony slid into place on the other side, effectively caging me between the two. 

"I knew it! Kili thought you might be a fairy!" He was young too, closer to his brunette companion if I had to guess. His blonde hair swept past his shoulders and multiple small braids tucked through. I had to bite back a laugh at his mustache. It was blonde like the rest of him, but twisted into braids on either side that fell past his chin and clasped with metal beads. They swung a bit every time the pony stepped forwards, though if the movement bothered him he gave no notice.

"A fairy?" I raised an eyebrow. 

The brunette in question sputtered through some protest as his friend chuckled. 

Laughter bubbled up in my own chest. "Hate to disappoint but I'm just human," 

"Then how'd you get it pink like that?" Kili looked about a second from reaching over and touching the ends the way his brow scrunched as he studied them carefully.

"I take it people don't dye their hair here?" 

They both shook their heads. 

"Ah, well it's pretty common where I'm from." I twisted a lock around my finger, eyeing the pale strands. It was one of those spur of the moment things, back in college. It was a dark time for me, and my best friend brought a box dye as a last resort to pick me up. The result had been spotty back then, but I loved the color so much that I ended up going to a salon to get it done professionally and the habit of touching it up myself had stuck. 

“So you can do other colors as well?” Fili, the blonde, piped up. 

“Oh yeah. Any color under the sun. I did a blue once just to switch it up, but I just like the pink so much, so I came back to it.” 

The boys were funny, continually pestering me with questions about my hair and cracking jokes between them. But they seemed to listen intently to the response, and though they poked fun it didn’t feel like they were making fun of me. 

They kept me occupied with their banter until the sun sat low in the sky and Thorin finally called to set up camp. I swung myself off of the horse and only stumbled a little as I hit the soft dirt. My ass was only slightly more sore than when I woke up. The second full day of riding had been utter torture, to the point where I had done everything possible to avoid sitting. 

Fili and Kili continued to joke around with me as we all unloaded the necessary bags to create a makeshift camp. 

As I unstrapped the bag, a skill that I only just managed to accomplish without help, I felt my skin crawl. The familiar feeling usually accompanied someone staring at my back. At this point the feeling didn't faze me, but for some reason I turned to look over my shoulder anyway. I was struck immediately by that piercing blue. My hands fumbled slightly with the strap and the bag slipped. Kili appeared at the edge of my vision, darting forward to grab it by the strap before it could hit the ground. He laughed, admonishing me for my clumsiness before returning to his own horse again. 

By the time I looked back, our fearless leader was occupied by something else entirely, as if he'd never been looking at all. Even when the soup had been distributed I couldn't help but steal glances at him out of the corner of my eyes. I didn't catch him looking again. 

As I turned over to sleep for the night, I wasn't sure if I wanted to.


	3. Group Dynamics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few more horse back conversations and a cameo by terrible weather
> 
> Warnings  
> \------  
> Maybe some self deprecation?

A hand shook my shoulder, dragging me from the depths of my sleep, followed by a much too cheerful voice exclaiming that breakfast was soon to be served. 

I shifted, burying my face into the cloak beneath me and grumbled something only partially rude. Bofur, the pointy bearded bastard, offered a hearty laugh but continued on with his task of rousing the company. 

I stretched languidly, enjoying the pull of my stiff muscles as they relaxed. It took a moment before I dragged myself up, preparing myself for the beginning of another physically taxing day. 

Mornings were definitely not my forte. 

The -ri’s were up and congregating around the fire where Bomber had his impressive cauldron set up, while Bofur rounded up the -oin’s. Thorin was absent, along with Dwalin though this was not particularly concerning. 

Kili sauntered over, picking his way through the bedrolls and bags spread across the clearing, holding two bowls of whatever the widest Dwarf had conjured up today. 

"Thanks." 

"Woke up on the wrong side of the bedroll this morning?" He flopped onto the ground beside me, digging into his own bowl of soup. 

"I'll show you wrong side of the bedroll." I lunged over, ruffling my hands over his not yet brushed hair. He yelped, the soup nearly sloshing over the edges of the bowl from the wild flinging of his hands as he squirmed out of reach. Fili watched on in glee and settled across from us, but purposefully out of reach from my grabbers. 

My morning grumpiness was understood and even shared among my companions. A chorus of huffs and groans settled over the camp as the sun rose every day. 

The rocky ground dug into my sides at night and waking up involved a whole lot of stretching to get rid of the aches. I'd been camping enough times that the sensation wasn't exactly foreign, and for that I was at least grateful. 

The feeling of uselessness was pervasive. The boys playfully teased me when I struggled to lift a pack onto the back of the horse, and though they weren’t mean about it the words still stuck in my head. Back home I'd been proud of my commitment to hitting the gym twice a week even if I only stayed for thirty minutes sometime, I wasn't entirely weak, but out here the demands were completely different. My whole body burned from days in the saddle and nights on the dirt. 

The soup was delicious, as always, and as I hastily ate, an uncomfortable sensation settled over me. Unfortunately, a familiar sensation. The feeling of eyes on my back was starting to become familiar, as was the feeling of him surveying, waiting. Perhaps the stare had lost some of it's contempt the past few days, but either way it was disconcerting to feel like my every move was being judged, especially by the person technically in charge of me. 

I bristled under the attention, but clenched my jaw and allowed the brothers to rib at me until they became too distracted ribbing at each other.

Sure, I was grumpy. But I wouldn't complain out loud, especially if he could hear. 

By the time I finished the savory concoction of potatoes and some meat I wasn't entirely sure the origin of, the break down of camp had begun.

The company moved as a unit, even when they were as grumpy as I was about being woken up. Gruff was sort of the default for Dwarves, though Kili, Fili, and Bofur seemed to be exceptions to that rule. When they set about the morning deconstruction they worked efficiently, helping out even when no one verbalized the need for it. 

Soup was starting to become my new coffee. God I missed coffee. At the very least, eating gave me the kick to wake up properly. I grabbed the bowls from the brothers and brought them over to help Bomber clean up. I wasn't particularly fast, or strong, but dishes I could do. And god dammit if I was going to just sit on my ass and do nothing. 

Bomber was a cheery sort. At first I hadn’t been entirely sure that he liked me, but he loosened up when he became sure that my offers to help had been genuine and that I would actually listen to him when he told me how he preferred to clean. He spoke merrily about his many, many children as we blew through the usual morning mess. I took a little bit of pride in the fact that since I had joined in, the breakfast clean up went by twice as fast and the rest of the company was available to do everything else that I couldn't. Even Thorin seemed to be, at least, pleased by how early we could set out. 

Finally the last strap of my pony’s harness slipped into place and I took a deep breath.  
Fili slipped into his normal place at my side but stopped with a short, bark of pleased laughter. 

"Well well! Seems we'll make a rider out of you yet!" He clapped my shoulder, the force nearly sending me headfirst into the horse's side. 

For once I wasn't the last one ready to leave. 

A breeze wafted through the long line of ponies meandering down the path ahead. I found myself near the back of the group once again. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the crisp air flood my senses.

“A lovely morning.” 

I looked over then up to find Gandalf had slowed from his usual point near the middle of the group to fall into step close to my own horse. 

“Yeah, it’s really beautiful out here.” 

He nodded his agreement, eyes scanning over the group ahead. He looked old, even used a long, twisted staff as a walking stick, but he seemed to have no trouble moving around when he needed to. 

“I hoped we could speak about your memory.” His mount kept an even pace with mine and I found us lagging even further behind until we were somewhat alone. “Has anything come to you?” 

“I’ve got some vague ideas about where I come from but nothing too specific.” I shrugged. “I get flashes of how different this place is. Like the air, I know that the air here is clearer and fresher than anything I’ve ever breathed before. I know I went to school as a kid, I lived in a big house near the woods but anything more specific seems to be locked away.” 

He was quiet a moment, brows furrowed underneath the brim of his comically stereotypical wizard hat. 

“And nothing of when you fell?” 

“Nothing that could tell me how it happened. Or why.” 

“The why of it is what intrigues me the most.” He stroked his beard. For some reason the movement amused me. “It is not every day that someone is dropped here from another world. I personally don’t know of another example, though there are perhaps some who would.” 

“Well can we talk to them? Or meet them somewhere?” As the words came out I realized I had no idea how we would even send a message out here. I mean obviously through a letter but how the hell did people get a note from the middle of the woods to civilization? 

“We should happen upon one such person along our journey, as well as a safe place for you until we can discern more about your arrival.” 

“Happen upon?” 

“If all goes according to plan.” He tried and failed to stifle his knowing grin.

“Ah, scheming are we?” I laughed. 

His eyes shifted to the very front of the line, settling on Thorin as his horse powered forward through the sparse trees. 

“I would ask if you remember anything pertinent that you speak with me immediately.” 

I made a small noise of agreement. 

“Best we don’t get left behind.” Gandalf straightened, the glint in his eyes renewed and the knowing smile returning. I shook my head and nudged my speckled pony to reduce the distance between the group and myself. 

Wizards.

The weather didn’t hold. As the sun rose steadily, the clouds darkened and droplets began to splatter against us. It was pleasant at first, though judging from the resounding grumbles from the group I was the only one with that opinion. Eventually though, we were marching forward in a deluge of freezing rain with nothing but cloaks to protect us. 

The fabric of the heavy cloak wrapped around my shoulders was only slightly waterproof and clearly not made for this type of weather. It clung to my skin and cold seeped into my already abused muscles, the hood heavy against my head. I had migrated to the center of the group not far off from the meddlesome wizard with Bofur to my side. Even the happy go lucky brunette seemed dour from the weather. 

“Gandalf, can’t you do something about this deluge?” The voice was nearly drowned out by the thundering of the rain against the mud. 

“It is raining Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done.” Gandalf shot back, his hat really not doing anything in the way of keeping him dry. The edges drooped sadly over his face, dripping occasionally onto his shoulders. “If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.” 

“Are there any?” Bilbo piped up somewhere behind me. The Hobbit was somewhat of an enigma. He and I were in the same camp in terms of our relative usefulness to the group, and the few moments we had spoken alone were full of talk about the relative manners of the group and the comfort of his home back in the Shire. He was soft. I hadn’t quite gotten to ask him why he was out here.

Currently his hair was plastered against his sides, giving him the distinct impression of a half drowned puppy. The poor thing didn't even have cloak of his own besides the burgundy jacket to shelter him from the storm. 

“What?” 

“Other wizards?” 

“There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the two blue wizards.” He paused a moment. “You know, I've quite forgotten their names.” 

“There’s only five of you and you forgot their names?” Considering he only had four other names to remember, only knowing two was like a 50% success rate. Gandalf glared, though there was little actual heat behind it, but before he could respond Bilbo spoke again. 

“What about the fifth?” 

“Well that would be Radagast the Brown.” 

Bilbo wrinkled his nose. “Is he a great wizard or is he... more like you?”

My hand shot up to cover the snort of laughter that burst forth. The hobbit was growing on me by the second. 

“I think he is a very great wizard in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. The grey wizard responded diplomatically. 

“What exactly do wizards do?” I called. 

They both turned to look as my horse sloshed through the muddy ground to pull up closer, desperate for anything to take my mind off of how cold and wet I was.

“I mean you said you can’t make it stop raining, so what types of things can you do?” 

Gandalf squinted suspiciously, effectively trapped between myself and the hobbit.

"Oh come on!" I put on what I hoped were my best pleading eyes. "I've never met a wizard! Not a real one anyway." 

“He does make excellent fireworks.” Bilbo said with a slight smile, looking a little less miserable. 

I grinned. "Fireworks! Well now I'm never going to stop bothering you until I see that." 

"That, I believe." The wizard huffed, side-eyeing me as he adjusted in his saddle. "I can do a great many things, some magical, some not. Wisdom is a powerful tool in and of itself, and underutilized as it were." 

I had to physically restrain myself from saying lame out loud as Gandalf continued on some tangent, the crux of which had absolutely nothing to do with what I had asked him. I leaned back in my saddle, looking around the wizard to where Bilbo was glancing skeptically at him. The hobbit met my gaze, expression unchanged, and raised his shoulder quickly. I rolled my eyes in response and snickered at the snort Bilbo just barely turned into a cough. 

Gandalf's tirade held up a few more minutes and as we continued sloshing through the muddy road, my mind fell away from the rain into contentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoy long chapters so I tried to extend this and get some meaningful interactions in there. I will be updating this semi regularly, when my school schedule allows for it, but I'm aiming to keep it under two weeks between posts. Also I am editing the first chapters because I realized there were a lot of typos okay hope you enjoyed bye


End file.
